PotC Drabbles and Ramblings
by AhiFlame
Summary: A collection of the junk I slop together to try and get past writer's block...enjoy. Disclaimer: Not mine. No cash earned. Don't hurt me please.
1. Even in Death 021207

**Even in Death**

Even in death, Jack felt content. The icy press of the water dragging him further and further away from the tinted light had little effect on him and the numb sensation claiming his body was as insignificant as if it were overtaking a complete stranger. Already he could feel himself becoming detached from the world of the living, his lifeblood draining from his body with each weakening thud of his heart.

Despite all of this, despite him seeing death's black shadow hovering just beyond the veil of water waiting to claim him, he remained unconcerned. She was with him and so he was not worried.

He could feel her, could hear her last sounds as she slowly plummeted into the inky void of the sea. Her groans as her timbers shifted beneath the weight of the water were all that could generate any stressed emotion from him. Feebly, he reached into the darkness and sought to comfort her. His hand brushed a piece of her rail and he closed his eyes. She was crying, he could feel it in her quivering form.

_Easy lass, I'm here_.

As if she could hear and understand his whispered thought, the ship settled and ceased fighting the forces dragging her down. Jack released the breath he had been holding.

Death he could accept, so long as his beloved rested with him.


	2. Marooned 021207

**Marooned**

Jack threw himself down on the sand, tears pricking his eyes. He was not crying over his physical wounds, though they were somewhat extensive. His true agony stemmed from one thing alone: the sight of his dark lady vanishing over the horizon, leaving him behind.

He cursed.

He cursed again, this time chucking a handful of white sand at the waves.

Midway through his third curse he cut himself short. He bowed his head, letting the tears run down his cheeks. He was wrong to be cursing her; there was nothing she could do to stop it.

He lifted his head, his tear-reddened eyes gleaming dangerously. Hector. He would pay, of that Jack was certain. Ignoring the furious trembling in his facial muscles, Jack drew a knife from his belt. Watching his actions with an uplifted head, unable to fully remove his gaze from the horizon, he carved a small design into the flesh of his forearm.

A terrifyingly satisfied grin pulled at his mouth as he stared down at the oozing wound, his promise to himself and whatever gods that may be looking on that he would reclaim his lady and kill Barbossa.

Now all he needed was a way off that disgusting speck of an island.


	3. Tainted 021507

**Tainted**

Night had settled over the sea, her obsidian blanket laying heavy and thick on the muted waves. The _Pearl_ rocked on the water, swiftly carving her way toward safety. Her timbers and rigging moaned quietly, echoing hauntingly in the overcast evening. Things had quieted since Jack's frantic call of 'all hands' the night before. After putting several leagues behind them and expending all the adrenaline they possessed the crew had settled into a commonplace routine. They still did not k now what they were running from but they contented themselves with ensuring the sails were filled to their capacity at all times. Anything that could unsettle their outlandish captain so was bound to be trouble.

On deck it was silent save for the agitated tread of the ship's captain. Jack paced to and fro, ignoring the helmsman's silent gaze tracing his sharp movements in the darkness.

Cotton's parrot croaked an indecipherable sound that drifted eerily across the deck. When the sound reached Jack's ears he started and froze mid-step, his body rigid. After moments of silence he allowed his muscles to relax slightly. A fresh thought dawned on him and he paced to the rail, inhaling the salty breeze deeply. As his left hand brushed the rail he felt the ache that constantly emanated from the spot resurface. Biting back a hiss he lifted his hand and untied the concealing knot.

He gazed down in disgust at the mark that had been bestowed on him by his once-trusted shipmate. Another betrayal. Jack grimaced and a tear pricked his eye. He let it fall, trusting the cloak of darkness to hide it from prying eyes.

Wrapping the strip of fabric around his marked palm once more, Jack cursed Jones and his powers. After a moment's hesitation, he also cursed Bootstrap. A vile hatred flared in his scarred heart and Jack snarled silently in the darkness.

Below, he felt a shudder wrack the _Pearl_'s hull and recognized his lady's fear; she had always mistrusted the aura of his anger. Jack laid his right hand reassuringly on her rail and made her a promise.

_We'll fight this together, come what may._


	4. Everything 021507

**Everything**

It was something he didn't fully understand himself, so how could he possibly explain it to her? He gazed silently into her searching, fearful eyes. She wanted an answer, be it simple or not, but he could not find anything to properly explain. He knew to make her strain in silence for such a length wasn't wise for either of them and so he opened his mouth, intending to break the silence with some clever remark, but nothing came out. He worked his jaw for a few moments, trying to grab and string words together in the chaotic interior of his mind, yet it was t no avail.

Finally he tore his gaze away and rose, pacing to the other side of the cabin. He stared out the aft window, searching the horizon for answers. The vast expanse yielded even less than his frantic thoughts. Jack sighed and pressed a hand to the frame, leaning against the hull, asking her for some guidance.

"Jack, I'm not lookin' for an eloquent speech. Just tell me."

Jack stiffened at the sound of her voice. He could tell she was struggling to hide the anger and pain. He knew he owed her something in way of explanation.

"Why do you always push me away?"

This time he outright flinched at the roiling passion in her voice and he emitted a sound halfway between a sigh and a growl. He leaned forward and pressed his forehead to his supporting hand, closing his eyes.

"She's my soul, Ana. I can't," he took a shuddering breath, striving to stay in control, "can't belong to anyone else."

"Jack, she's a ship."

Jack flung his head around, his eyes containing a smoldering fire. "She's so much more. She's the embodiment of my freedom – I'd be nothing without her." His voice dropped to barely a whisper. "Can't you see that?" He turned back and rested his head back on the bulkhead.

Ana rose and paced over to him. She rested a hand tentatively on his shoulder, gently applying pressure to draw him around to look at her. When their eyes met they both felt a connection sizzle. The sensation seemed to draw Jack into a more open state of mind.

"I'm not asking you to abandon her, Jack," Ana whispered kindly, "and I do not doubt that she and you will share a connection stronger than any other. But is it too much to ask for you to give us a chance as well?"

Jack's eyes flicked back and forth as he ruminated on this question. His gaze emptied and became more uncertain than before. He turned away from her and her hand slipped from his shoulder. He pressed his forehead to the bulkhead harder than before and he muttered words too quietly for Ana to hear. She stood by in silence, allowing him to confer with his ship.

After what seemed a minor eternity, he turned back to her, a strange expression in his eyes. "I love you."


	5. Certainty 021507

**Certainty**

The news had come like a storm after the calm. When she had first heard the tale passing from one scraggly sailor to another, Ana had laughed outright. It was impossible. The kraken was a myth, passed on through the irrational fears of fools. There was no possibility that a giant squid had taken the _Pearl_ and Jack with it. He was too stubborn.

However, Jack Sparrow had been the medium through which she was introduced to cursed men. The incident with Barbossa and his greed-cursed crew had left a permanent scar on her mind—on all of their minds. But she had shoved those memories into a category of their own and believed that Jack had gotten himself into more than enough supernatural trouble for his lifetime.

Then again, Jack Sparrow was notorious for breaking all definitions of normality.

Since her certainty had waned she had spent all of her free time at the docks or along the virgin shoreline, watching the horizon intently for black sails. She knew Jack was alive and well. He had to be.

Didn't he?


	6. Salvation 021707

**Salvation**

While all other ships were trapped at the mercy of a calm the _Black Pearl_ glided on, hastened toward her query by the cursed breeze and fog that perpetually surrounded her. It was at times like these, void of any immediate action, that Ragetti settled in a corner of the hold to ponder. The chance to be with his own thoughts, away from the rest of the crew's aggression and hatred, was a welcome one.

Alone, Ragetti felt almost human again. Despite his vicious displays he was constantly haunted by guilt. He could not shake the feeling of resentment he bore for the crew and himself for the disgusting injustice they had brought down upon Jack Sparrow.

However, this day, his thoughts strayed from the mental image of Sparrow's body baking in the sun on that island and turned inward. Silently, he questioned whatever gods there may be why he could not break away from this curse. The most immediate and obvious answer, that the gold pieces had not been returned and the blood repaid, was no sufficient. He strove for a simpler solution; perhaps a cleansing of his soul. He shifted his position s that he was kneeling and, trembling, clenched his hands before him. Bowing his head, he took a shuddering breath. In his mind he apologized for his part in the mutiny, for his greed, for all the blood he had—

"Sail on the horizon! All hands on deck!" the call echoed from the main deck.

His attempts at salvation forgotten, Ragetti sprung to his feet and drew his blade. An inexplicable lust for blood and violence consumed him as he dashed up the hold stairs.


	7. Theory 021707

**Theory**

As the daylight faded the _Pearl_ vanished over the darkening horizon. Jack rubbed absently at his upper arm, inwardly shuddering at the stiffness of his clothes. His hair still hung damply over his shoulders, wetting his shirt and making it stick to his skin uncomfortably. When the _Pearl_'s silhouette became nothing more than a painful image branded on Jack's mind, his knees grew weak. Pathetically he sank to the sand, grief written harshly across his features. He could feel the lass' eyes on his back, silently questioning his sanity and intentions but he could not bring himself to care. His shoulders sagged as he leaned forward, his mind swimming and his heart wounded by this second loss.

He laughed, the sound a harsh bark that resonated around the tiny island. The noise startled Elizabeth and she backed away from him. If Jack had noticed he might have found her reaction amusing. Even if Elizabeth deemed him crazy at this point she might someday learn the method to his madness.

He knew that Barbossa was back on the hunt, and while it seemed that that monster had triumphed, Jack was able to gleam a hint of victory for himself. Ten years ago he had started Barbossa on a ridiculously tedious quest, one which was not entirely necessary. True, returning the gold and repaying the blood was a solid way to ensure the breaking of the curse, yet Jack had another theory. He felt certain that if those mutineers would simply give instead of take, the curse would be lifted. Of course, there would never be a chance to test that supposition. They had the whelp, Bootstrap's son, and soon enough he would be dead.

Jack leaned forward further, pressing his head to the warm sand. Tears sprung from his eyes and he whimpered.

It was then that Elizabeth offered him a bottle of rum.


	8. Fine Line 031907

**Fine Line**

In everything there was a fine line between sanity and madness, love and hate, safety and danger. He wasn't sure, but he had a sneaky suspicion that he had crossed that last line. Something seemed amiss in the universe, concentrated in his cabin where she lay on the floor trembling, a hand pressed to her reddened cheek and he stood over her.

He had not meant to harm her. In the history of their relationship the closest he had ever come to wishing her injury was annoyance at her bossiness. Even when she slapped him, he had secretly almost enjoyed it; finally someone willing to stand up to him and put him in his place, to be his equal and opposite.

Indeed, something had gone terribly wrong and he couldn't for the life of him figure out what. Was it something that had been uttered in the privacy of the cabin? Some gesture? Some unconscious challenge to his dominance? He didn't know.

Trembling himself, Jack backed away from her and dropped to his knees, bowing his head. He pressed his fists to his eyes and leaned forward, letting his hair conceal the tears and the emotions gouging their marks in his expression. Unaware, or more rather uncaring, of the blatant display of weakness he began sobbing, allowing his body to shudder with each breath choked by sorrow and pain.

He heard her shuffle further away from him and finally get her feet beneath her before fleeing.


	9. Betrayal 032107

**Betrayal**

"I hope you realize that people like you are a dying breed; one that I intend to eradicate."

Jack threw himself forward violently but was brought up short by the guards holding his arms. His black hair was pulling free of its tie and flinging wildly in the salty breeze. While just a few hours ago the wind had been warm and soothing, now it brought a cold sense of foreboding as dark clouds gathered overhead. Jack bared his teeth at his opponent, his eyes engulfed with an angry fire.

The ice in the other man's stare was an even match for Jack's inflamed emotions, perhaps superior once the soldiers in his command were accounted for. A small mirthless smile broke the hard line of Beckett's mouth as he tilted his head to starboard. Jack's gaze instinctively followed and his eyes widened in terror at what he saw.

Almost a league away, flames were licking their way up the _Pearl_'s rigging, igniting her sails and timbers as they went. The hired arsonists rowed away, finding no fault with their deed.

As Jack watched his precious ship morph from a proud, sleek vessel to a charred shadow, the will to fight drained from him and he became virtually limp in the guards' hands.

"Justice is done," Beckett whispered, watching Jack closely as he spoke.

The flame of Jack's anger rekindled almost instantly, feeding on the hatred invoked by Beckett's words. His sudden movement caught the sailors off-guard and their slackened grips allowed his escape. Beckett, on the other hand, had been expecting a renewed assault and had cleared his cutlass from its scabbard before Jack moved. Shifting aside just enough that Jack's lunge would miss, he brought the hilt of the blade down forcefully on the base of Jack's skull. The dark-haired man crumpled to the deck.

"Lock him up."


	10. Romance 032107

**Romance**

Silent and catlike he made his way across the cabin, carefully avoiding the squeaky planks. The whole while his gaze remained firmly fixated on the dark-haired figure illuminated by the moonlight pouring through the small cabin window. He paused at her bedside and looked down at her sleeping form, a mixture of love, admiration and lust trailing across his features. He reached toward her but his hand stopped a good foot from her. He did not want to disturb this moment.

She looked like a wild angel. Her black hair, freed from its leather tie, was strewn chaotically across her pillow. The eerie light gave her features a silvery glow, accentuating the seeming otherworldliness of the scene. The blankets were drawn tightly up to her neck and she was curled partially into a ball, her side rising and falling in the slow regularity of a deep sleep.

She shifted minutely in her sleep and the spell was broken. Jack's eyes, still glowing warmly with various emotions drank in her slumbering form. He wanted to touch her, to feel the smoothness of her skin…to love her. Slowly, he reached for her again and gently caressed her cheek.

Jack grunted as he found himself on his back on the cabin floor, Ana's knee pressed down on his rib cage. Her favorite knife was putting an uncomfortable pressure on his jugular and he swallowed carefully as he met her furious stare. Beneath her loose white shirt and breeches he could sense the tension of her muscles, wire-tight with the sudden rush of adrenaline.

"Nice t' see you too luv."


	11. Priorities AWE Spoiler 060507

**Priorities**

This simply couldn't be happening. But it was.

Jack's whole body tensed as if he was the one who had been stabbed. Blood ran from the heart he clutched in one hand, its pulse a grim reminder of the scene playing out before him. Jones' blood ran down his hand and mixed with the rainwater as it fell to the deck. Drop by drop.

Jack could almost hear the floundering of Will's heart as it fought to stay alive; to ensure the safety of the woman he loved.

The pirate spared the pulsating organ one last look. The time had come to act. Jack made his decision and prayed that Fortune would smile on them.

June 5, 2007


	12. No Regrets 091107

_[A/N: No, I am not a J/E shipper, but as I was watching DMC again the other day, the muse did take an interest in their odd relationship - equal but opposite. And thus, you have this lil' drabble to read!_

**No Regrets**

Captured, swept up in that carnal passion, the world was momentarily forgotten. He had thought he'd wanted this, wanted a taste of the wildness that lurked just below the surface. Her aggression was overbearing. It was not what he'd expected but all the same he did not break the kiss: right now it was his only tie to a fast-fading hope for freedom.

But at the edge of awareness it lurked; the knowledge that no matter how far or fast he ran he was a doomed man. It weighed heavily on him, so much so that his normally sharp mind did not grasp precisely what was happening, even after he heard the click of the shackle closing upon his wrist. He froze and with heavy-lidded eyes met Elizabeth's smoldering gaze. She blamed him for everything but he could not blame her for this. Knowing that was the last human emotion he'd see directed at him hurt, but she'd done what was right by her reckoning. The heat of her body against his faded into the background of unreality as his mind wrapped itself around the situation and strove to distance him from it.

"I'm not sorry," she whispered roughly, her tone betraying the tears on the verge of breaking. Jack was almost thankful. She'd made the choice he could not, the _right_ choice, and now there was no escape. His fate was sealed and he had a few moments to process it.

He'd seen the marks of it in her early on, known what it might have led to…and yet he had not run when there was a chance. Now the worst case scenario had come true. No, not so, not worst; at least he had the _Pearl_.

"Pirate," he named her, for that was what she'd become whether she liked it or not. Always there had been a social and perhaps a moral barrier between them, but with that one word he'd shattered it. The impact on her shone clearly in her eyes: the bitterness of injured pride.

She fled and he looked upon the chain that bound him.


	13. More To It 091307

_[A/N: I absolutely love the exchange between Jack and Barbossa when they're on the spit of land parlaying with Beckett and Jones. So much is unsaid and I wanted to fill it in. I don't feel I managed it fully, but did get hints of it. For some reason I can see something completely ridiculous like "Shall we go to coffee once this lil thing's over?" in Jack's eyes but that doesn't quite fit with the context, heh._

**More To It**

"That account has been settled with some…help," Jack explained quickly, flailing his hands clumsily in Elizabeth's direction. She remained stoic, silently measuring the situation. Jack was falling back on his same old argument. Thinking herself mad, she almost caught a hint of hesitancy in his defense as if…no, that simply couldn't be. Jack would never willingly submit to servitude.

"I propose an exchange," Elizabeth found herself saying, keeping her features hard. "Will leaves with us and you can take Jack." All eyes focused on her either inquisitively or in astonishment. Beckett smiled.

"Done." Will agreed immediately.

"Undone!" Jack countered, self-preservation kicking in. He didn't seem angry at the notion and the half second of hesitation showed there was more to it. He had a plan.

"Done." Beckett said with the ghost of a smile. Jack was finally ensnared.

Barbossa was furious and wheeled on Elizabeth. "Jack's one of the nine pirate lords; you have no right."

Elizabeth took joy from being able to pull one over on the pirates – finally she was more than a pawn. "King," she reminded, rubbing it in Hector's face. Her device worked and Barbossa pulled back a bit, his angry eyes widening in contempt. He looked past her, accusingly at Jack, and was puzzled by the younger man's sly, almost happy expression. Barbossa knew that look, knew that things were falling into place just as Jack had expected. _Predictable wench_, his expression seemed to say. Barbossa smothered a grin of understanding.

Elizabeth followed Hector's gaze and Jack started out of the expression, drawn back to reality by her stare. Moving his head haltingly, Jack swept into a sarcastic bow, removing his hat in the process: the meaning was clear; he was offering Barbossa a chance at his solution to this mess. "As you command, young miss."

Hector drew his blade. "Bla'gard!" he shouted, swinging and severing the strand of beads. Jack clearly hadn't expected quite that method of removal since he twitched agitatedly while looking down at his piece of eight. Jack the monkey leapt from his perch and quickly claimed the item. Barbossa moved over to Jack. "If ye have somethin' to say, I might be sayin' something as well," he hissed, hoping Jack would understand.

Jack met Hector's gaze, his eyes dancing beneath lowered lids. "First to the finish then?" _It's my immortality, your luck, or we're all doomed. Cheers._


	14. Honest Man 022809

Her blunt question did not catch him off guard, per say. Her naiveté was what cut him to the quick. She seemed to believe whole-heartedly in those far-fetched tales: his ghostly escape from the East India Company, the sack of Nassau without firing a single shot. If only she knew.

Why shouldn't she know the truth? He sincerely doubted that the lass had grown on him – she was pretty, sure enough, but her temper and wit were not to be trifled with – yet he found himself in a veritable catch-22. It was almost certain they would die on this island; there was no escape this time.

"How did you escape last time?"

Abruptly, unconsciously, his guards dropped, or rather, faltered enough to give her a glimpse of the truth. She'd led herself to believe lies. Perhaps he had too.

For once, Jack Sparrow was not the flippant, brilliant scallywag, but a desperate, honest man. "Last time, I was here a grand total of three days, alright?" There, he'd said it.


	15. The Watcher Falls 101409

Captain? She was their captain? But…how?

Inwardly I shook myself. The means by which she had secured such a position did not matter. What mattered was that she was safe. Well, relatively. I had to work quickly to assure she stayed that way. The _Dutchman's_ brig is no place for a lady of her stature.

Quickly, I offered her my quarters. Something in her countenance told me she would decline my offer before she even spoke. Her tone was cruel toward me, her savior. She preferred the company of those vile wretches! What had I done? Why did she blame me for her father's death? Was it because I was in league with Beckett?

As she backed away from me to join her crew there was a certain dangerous glint in her eye. She would defend her choice to the death. The blame she laid upon me was smothering; I could not stand to see her so angry. I knew she was furious at the East India Company – and in turn at me – and I knew that what she had told me about the governor was true. Beckett had lied to me, made me his puppet. And in falling for his tricks I had hurt the beautiful creature I loved the most. I had to make amends.

Thus, I descended to the brig later that evening. My heart had run away with my head; somewhere in the back of my mind I knew that my actions would cost me my new commission but I did not care. Elizabeth's happiness and freedom were all that really mattered. I knew her love belonged to another but I would always be there, waiting for her to have a change of heart.

I released her and our collection of prisoners, for without them she would not have gotten far. I told her I had chosen her side but even then I knew it was a half-lie. I supported her being free to do as she liked but I would remain with the Company and hunt her comrades. I would always be the friend-enemy.

She invited me to join her. No, she begged me to come. The look of longing in her eyes – the look I'd always wanted her to direct at me – nearly broke down my resolve. I was on the verge of casting my sense of duty aside and following her when a cry shattered the moment.

Knowing full well that this might be the last time I saw her, I told her my mind and stole the kiss I'd always wished for. She did not resist it, though I admit it took her quite by surprise. Pulling away, I ordered her on her way so my determination would not be destroyed entirely. Now it was my duty to protect her once more. I stayed to face the consequences.

When she saw me confront the sailor she redoubled her efforts to bring me with her. She started back. I could not let her endanger herself on my account. I knew the cold sea would be better for her than being beside me, confronted by a mad sailor toting a pike.

Though it killed me to risk her safety, I raised my pistol and fired a shot, severing the rope to which she clung. I watched her fall and eagerly watched for her to break the surface. Once she had, I turned back and met with my death.

I heard her scream my name but I had done all I could for her. I could only pray that Turner would watch over her as diligently as I would have.


End file.
